


Dead Man's Hand

by Windlion



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (unless you've read anything I've ever written), DRAMA AND PATHOS, Force-Sensitive Hux, M/M, PATHOS AND DRAMA, Sleeper knight!Hux, Snoke is terrible, bittersweet not grimdark, but they'll get there eventually, more action and plot than you'd expect, so much hurt and so little comfort, watch the tags as they may change~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windlion/pseuds/Windlion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The dead man's hand: A poker hand of two pairs, aces and eights, and a fifth card that changes with whoever is telling the story, but one thing stays the same: it's a doomed draw, destined to lose, with consequences that may go beyond the game on the table.</i>
</p>
<p>With the destruction of Starkiller base, Supreme Leader Snoke summoned his protege and General to return to him.   It's time that Kylo live up to his potential, and the bargain Hux struck years ago ran out.  Hux knew the game, knew the score, and knew when to hold . . . or fold.  Kylo had no idea what he was even playing, or how high the stakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Man's Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I had two prompts on Tumblr, “Kylux where it turns out Hux was secretly Force sensitive this whole time“ and “helping each other after both being punished by Snoke post TFA.” So… I sort of smushed them together and I accidentally acquired a plot. Whoops?

Out of a ship of almost ninety thousand crew, only two descended to the surface of the planetoid. Only two had been given the right to do so.

General Hux had met Kylo Ren at the shuttle in the dead of night, end of third shift, and silent as thieves, they boarded. Kylo took the helm without a hint of argument from Hux, who merely nodded and took co-pilot without prompting. Not a word was exchanged as they landed and, side by side like matched shadows, strode into the stronghold of the most powerful Force user in the galaxy.

The deeper into Snoke's Citadel they went, the more tense Hux became. To look at the man's face, no one would ever tell the difference, but to Kylo's practiced eye, he could read the way Hux was becoming tighter and tighter strung. Even more, he could _feel_ it. Unlike most people who'd project further in the Force when agitated, Hux locked down, his mind becoming ever and ever more opaque. He almost vanished from Kylo's perception even before they reached the gates, before they'd even landed.

It was like walking next to a ghost.

Like Hux had already determined he was a dead man walking.

Kylo kept watch on the general without turning his head, trying not to be obvious about his scrutiny while maintaining visual contact. It felt as if his eyes left Hux for just a split second, the man might vanish, might be nothing more than a figment of Kylo's imagination.

It made for a strange counterpoint to his own emotions, almost enough of a distraction to the violent cataclysm between trepidation and anticipation that was making his heart race.

When they paused before the immense doors leading to the Supreme Leader's audience chamber, Kylo finally turned his head to examine Hux directly through the helmet. “You should be flattered, General. Seeing the Supreme Leader in person—few people know such honor. ”

Hux stared back at him, his own voice absolutely deadpan and devoid of emotion. “You're honestly excited about this. You utter child.”

“Shouldn't you be?” Kylo parried. “Snoke wouldn't summon you this way for nothing. He wouldn't kill you personally.”

“As if that's supposed to be reassuring in your company.” Hux hesitated, checking his reflection in the polished black stone. The tiniest flicker of emotion spasmed across his face, quickly stilled. “You have no idea why he summoned me.”

Kylo inclined his head at Hux, speaking the obvious slowly, “To bring me to complete my training.”

Hux almost flinched, another flash of emotion ruthlessly suppressed. It reminded him of watching the wings of a trapped bird flutter at the hunter's net. Spontaneous motions beneath the surface, slowly smothered. Almost absently, Hux spoke softly, “Perhaps it will be different for you. You are the spoiled prize, after all.”

Before Kylo could demand Hux explain himself, the General straightened, impeccable icy demeanor taking hold once more. He smiled once, without humor. “Well. There can only be one favorite at a time. Let us see what awaits you.”

Hux stepped forward briskly, the immense doors swinging and falling away before them without a sound or any sign of machinery, as much of the Citadel did.

Kylo stalked forward a few hurried steps to catch up, falling in next to Hux. It wouldn't do to be anything less than equals, here of all places.

The audience hall was massive, immense in a way that the projection in the holo-chamber room of Starkiller only hinted at. The scale absolutely dwarfed even the tallest humans, the vastness swallowing the sounds of their footsteps down the long hall of black polished stone, past endless columns arching towards the high vaulted roof above. Like walking through the rib cage of a fallen giant.

At the far end, he could feel Snoke far before he could see him: the slow, pulsing darkness of his Force signature. If the Citadel was the corpse of some forgotten greatness, Snoke was its still-living, diseased heart. Twisted with more than age. Enduring while everything else withered and died around him.

Once, Kylo had admired Snoke. Now, it was with equal parts respect and fear that he approached, side-by-side with the First Order's greatest General. His pulse quickened, and he stilled his hands before they could give him away. Kylo did not raise his gaze to look directly at the Supreme Leader as they closed the distance, instead keeping his eyes neutrally upon the towering black platform that held his throne. Neither man allowed their steps to slow until they stopped in unison by unspoken agreement, just within the shadow Snoke cast before him. Their heads barely came level with his feet, as it should be with any petitioners before the Supreme Leader.

Out of deference, Kylo removed his helmet before falling to one knee before the high dais. He set it aside with care to avoid making a clatter, lowering his bowed head before his master. A hair slower, Hux followed, leather gloves creaking in the dead silence where they rested on his knee.

Kylo braced himself, breathing in to begin to speak—and as his mouth opened, Snoke beat him. Disapproval rolled through the air before the first syllable was spoken. “So my most capable hands stand before me.”

_In disgrace._ Unvoiced, the words hung over them, a sword of Damocles set swinging. Kylo swallowed, shoulders hunching unconsciously. “Supreme Leader, I have come as ordered. To complete my training.”

“You have finally come to this, Kylo Ren.” The words were almost a caress, and Kylo raised his head at last, meeting the knowing gaze of his master. Snoke made a noise that was almost a considering hum, deep and resonant along the edges of the human audio spectrum. With a crook of a grey finger, Snoke indicated for him to stand, and Kylo rose unsteadily. His face and mind bared, Kylo barely breathed while he waited for the judgment.

After a small eternity, Snoke stated, “You have taken your first steps towards embracing the Dark Side. But you have done so as a newborn. _Clumsy_. Faltering. _Bawling_. You will have a long journey into the Dark before you are ready. Before you truly see.”

Chastised, Kylo shivered. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“You will improve. In time.” Snoke slid his gaze to the side to the General, the shift in his focus releasing a palpable tension from Kylo's shoulders. Hux must have stood when Kylo did, for he was merely waiting expectant beside him, impassive. Kylo caught a faint twitch as Snoke addressed him, “My left hand. I expected _more_ of you.”

Hux swallowed before he spoke, voice steady but muted, “I have performed to the best of my ability, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke scoffed, “You showed great restraint in your performance. _Caution_. It could be mistaken for timidity. _Rigidity_. Perhaps the role of General was too constraining. That will no longer be a concern. You will cast off this restrictive shell and recall your teachings.”

Confused, Kylo cast a glance to the side under his lashes, not daring turn his head. Hux stood rigid, absolutely implacable. Kylo couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"Starkiller is destroyed, and General Hux with it. His time of use has ended. Now is the time for the Knights of Ren. And . . . a new . . . weapon.” Snoke's regard lay heavy on Kylo, an almost stifling pressure. The weight made him clench his jaw tight, fighting to keep his shoulders yoked straight and from hunching up to his ears. Was this . . . was this what Hux had feared? That Snoke would order Kylo to kill him here in front of him? There was a finality to Snoke's pronouncement, an unshakable order. This was what must be, Snoke's will be done.

“You will do your part to hone Kylo, as will all the Knights of Ren. You will know your place once more. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Hux's voice was hollow, empty. Kylo could not speak, could not grasp what it was that Hux was agreeing to— only that Snoke was to be obeyed. At all costs.

“You have both erred. You only think you understand. You will _learn_ your place.”

Kylo risked flicking his eyes up once, catching both the grim displeasure on his master's face, and the brittle blankness of Hux's. Then Snoke's brow lowered, one narrowed withered hand flicking forward dismissively—and a wave hit him.

The immensity of Snoke's anger staggered him, crushed him breathless to the floor, and then—

Even smaller. Into himself. Into his memories. The thermal oscillator.

The command echoed through his mind, _Show me, Kylo Ren. Show me how you failed._

_  
_ In his memories, Kylo stood before his father as he crumpled. He felt it, when Han Solo's life winked out. Nothing but the smallest, dimmest light in the Force. There was no reason it should have torn through Kylo Ren's psyche. Perhaps it didn't. Perhaps it tore through where Ben Solo once was. The pain made the bowcaster bolt hitting him a breath later feel like an afterthought. And that was where he completely lost control of the situation.

He could feel Snoke's ire, disgust, disappointment at Kylo's performance in the duel that followed. Where each blow of the blue sabre blade pierced his guard. The pulped mass of his side throbbed, twinged, spasmed. Without the cushion of shock, without the supportive embrace of the Force. Nothing but raw pain. _Remember this defeat. It will shape you. You will do better._

He was dimly aware of someone screaming.

 

 

 

Kylo wasn't even aware when it ended. There was intense pressure, and then . . . absence. Silence and nothing but the dead air stillness of a tomb.

Snoke had left.

With effort, Kylo rolled over on to his back on the cold stone, each breath torn from aching lungs. His wounds burned with the relived memory of their infliction, and when he brought a shaking hand to his face, he was almost surprised to see only sweat on his gloved fingers, not blood.

He closed his eyes and let his hand fall back with a thud, a puppet with its strings cut. He could not possibly move.

He _hurt_. Starkiller had left him broken and bleeding, alone in the snow, but this left him feeling scoured, seared.

Wait.

He wasn't alone.

He was dimly aware his roll had brought his left arm brushing against something. Kylo raised his head with a hiss of pain, squinting to bring the shape into focus. Black uniform on black stone: Hux was still here. Where Kylo had collapsed into a boneless sprawl, Hux had knotted into himself, as if in physical manifestation of how his Force signature had collapsed down into nothing. It made something in Kylo's chest ache, like the punch of fractured ribs, to see how small the General could make himself.

Hux _trembled_.

Kylo forced himself to move, bringing himself up to his right elbow and reaching out his left hand to settle on Hux's shoulder. “Hux. . . it's over.”

The noise that came from the other man was half-laugh and half-sob. Hux uncurled enough to look at Kylo through disheveled bangs. Tracks of tears cut through the runnels of blood smearing his face. “Ren. You fool. It's just beginning.”

Kylo reflexively curled his fingers tighter around the thin shell of Hux's shoulder, as if he could hold him together with one hand. It seemed to have the opposite effect. Hux went rigid, forcing his uneven, rapid breathing to slow with his hands clenched spasmodically about the opposite bicep. Even through his flayed-bare sensitivity to the Force, Kylo sensed nothing from him. It might as well be a droid frozen under his palm.

He might have even believed it, if Hux hadn't looked so . . . human. He'd never seen the General look anything less than polished. It was fascinating, in a morbid way, to see the blanched and mottled face, the lines of blood slowly drying tacky below his nose, across his lips and down his chin. The blood disappeared into the dark of his uniform, but drips and smudges showed against the gloss of the floor. The usually impeccable uniform was creased, rumpled where Hux had caught at it in distress. Even his pomade had failed him, leaving odd locks to fall across his face and shadow his eyes.

The sight of the human shipwreck of Hux almost distracted Kylo from his own state, where he could barely focus on one thing at a time. The room spun at the edges, black dots dancing against black in a dizzying sensation that left Kylo feeling disconcertingly like he had fallen into the void.

Unsurprisingly, Hux pulled himself together faster, expression turned blank by the time he pushed his clenched fists to the floor and pressed himself upright. Even with the way Hux had gone down, into an almost fetal position, he'd kept his feet under him. Prepared to bolt.

The greatcoat slid off his shoulders as he stood, the fabric still caught in Kylo's grasp. Without it, the very shape of the man looked wrong. Too slim. Hux took two steps forward and stooped to sweep up Kylo's own heavy helmet in a sharp, decisive motion. When he turned back to Kylo, his expression was the same that had looked across the _Finalizer_ 's bridge a thousand times: iron, implacable, empty of emotion. “We have our orders. This is no place to linger.”

Kylo slowly collected himself, reeling in long limbs that didn't want to cooperate. The throbbing wound on his side protested the action the loudest, and Kylo caught his breath between his teeth, eyes half-closing as he hissed out the pain. When he opened them again, there was an imperious hand waiting in front of his face. Black gloved. Palm up. Open.

“Stand up.” Hux's voice was steady. Pitiless.

“Generous of you,” Kylo muttered, voice thick and low. His throat felt raw. . . right. He'd screamed. He would have been shamed, but there was no energy left in him for it.

Instinct more than anything else made him obey, folding his right hand around the slim fingers offered and letting Hux haul him ruthlessly to his feet. Hux was surprisingly strong, feet braced to take the weight. Despite the proximity, for once, Hux was the one looming over him, steady where he faltered while his vision flashed white. Kylo slouched into himself, curving around his pain; his head pounded with the shift in position and his vision was slow to return. Bacta tanks could only do so much when you spent a matter of scant hours in them, and only Snoke's experienced hand could mete out such discipline without reopening the fresh wounds. His Master was impressive.

An unexpected rustle of fabric surprised him, and Kylo belatedly realized he'd unthinkingly clutched Hux's greatcoat against him, when he'd curled his arm protectively against his side. As Hux released him, Kylo made an effort to straighten, to shake the coat out properly to return it. To keep more than one thought in line at a time against the drowning ache. He extended the weight of wool, “Here—”

Hux slapped his palm away as if burned. “You heard the Supreme Leader. I have no more use for it. Leave it.”

Unbalanced, Kylo pulled the offending limb back to his side, hunching into himself. He stared at Hux, forcing his eyes to register the General while the rest of the room slid out of focus around him. Hux still barely registered in the Force, almost more a noticeable absence than a presence. A stone the stream diverted around. Like Kylo could feel the edges of him by the ripples cast around him. Slowly, it dawned on him that Hux _controlled_ that. “You _are_ a Force user.”

Hux's hands tightened their hold on Kylo's helmet, leather and metal creaking. He turned away, starting to cross the immense hall in sharp strides towards an understated door perpendicular to the entrance. “Remarkable deduction. I'm amazed it only took the Supreme Leader stating it before you grasped the obvious.”

Kylo fumbled to follow, forcing himself to move in an ungainly gait after. Hux did not wait for him. The world greyed out and spun as he tried to move too quickly to catch up. Kylo grimly ignored his failing vision entirely and lurched forward anyways, drawing on the Force to bolster him through the weakness of his body. It was no worse than training in pitch black, and the strange _absence_ of Hux made a beacon of its own to follow down the corridors. “Hux. _How?_ ”

“Quite handily, before your intervention.” Hux sounded out of breath, some ten meters ahead, which should have been a consolation but wasn't. Kylo realized Hux had paused at a intersection of corridors. Making sure he didn't lose Kylo entirely to the depths of the Citadel, perhaps despite himself. His tone made it obvious he wasn't interested in following that line of conversation any further.

Hux continued onward before Kylo could draw even to him, his pace slightly slower than before. Kylo had never learned the entire maze of the Citadel; something about it defied his best efforts at grasping its structure—the entire scale and layout was alien. This was not one of the few pathways he'd trod before, that much he knew. Kylo hissed as they took another corner, an unexpected descent down a spiraling stairwell making him stumble and nearly fetch up hard against a wall. “Where are we going?”

“To our ruin; weren't you listening?” Hux's voice was acid, echoing strangely off the walls around them. Kylo had the sense the walls were getting closer, even as a vastness stretched before him. He let his empty hand trail along the wall, providing another sense to navigate by. The stone was cold; cooler than even in the chamber above. They were . . . descending? Beneath the Citadel?

Kylo growled with an effort as he nearly tripped on level ground at the bottom of the flight, “I _heard_ training. I don't _understand_.”

Hux's scoff and dry rejoinder wouldn't have been out of place at any of the staff briefings. “You don't understand many things; if you have a question, you're going to need to be more specific.”

Another two sets of stairs down required his focus to avoid breaking his neck, the stitch in his side growing steadily worse, then the sound of Hux's boots led onward. Kylo followed him, pausing with one hand to mark the doorway from the stairs to the next corridor beyond. “I don't understand you. This. What Snoke plans.”

When they stilled, Kylo's pounding headache levelled off slightly, slowly letting his eyes adjust and refocus, if hazily. The dimmer light helped, blue edging Hux's silhouette where he'd stopped, turned sideways to face a pair of arched doors before him. Hux huffed, bringing one hand up to rake through his hair and shove strands out of his face. “ _Plans_. The amount of plans you ruin by _existing_ is mind-boggling. Truly, you are an act of the Force.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes, catching where the light gleamed off his helmet, still held by one of Hux's gloved hands in a death grip. “So are you.”

Hux turned sharply on his heel, stalking towards him with the helmet raised as if he was ready to throw it at him. Hux snarled,“You think I want _this_?!”

Kylo held his ground as Hux advanced on him with menace rolling off him in waves. Hux kept seething, face contorting and color high on his cheeks. “You think I _wanted_ to become Snoke's puppet? A faceless weapon? Good for nothing but a knife in the dark and a siphon to those with _true_ power?”

Buffeted by the roiling Dark assaulting his mind, Kylo stared down into Hux's pale eyes and marveled, “You _have_ true power.”

He saw it, the instant Hux realized his control had broken, power overflowing and beating heavy against Kylo's battered shields. Hux abruptly whitened, shrinking back from where he'd pressed into Kylo's space. He almost immediately began to stifle himself, but Kylo could feel the power fight him—breaking waves freezing and fracturing rather than returning to a smooth flow.

Hux grit his teeth, clenched his hands tight around the helmet pressed against his chest, and forced it down anyways, rapidly constructing barrier by painstaking barrier to keep it _in_. It felt every bit as violent a process as Kylo experienced in reverse, breaking down the walls of an enemy in interrogation.

Kylo'd always thought that what he felt of Hux's mind was a thing of sharp edges; cutting intellect and order. Precise as the working gears of an intricate machine. When Hux was on the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , Kylo had been aware of it, the metronome ticking and lightning quick gear changes as everything fell into place just so. Now—it was like standing beside a whirlwind of knives and shattered glass. Watching Hux raise a shield to keep them _inside_. . .

Kylo could not imagine the pain.

When it was over, Hux was paper-white, shaking as badly as he had been in the aftermath of Snoke's discipline. Kylo could feel the tremors threatening to dislodge the hand he'd caught against Hux's arm to steady him. Kylo couldn't stop the question bursting out of him as Hux slowly came back to himself, “Hux, _what the hell are you doing_?”

Hux shuddered, abruptly shrugging off Kylo's hand. “It's a matter of discipline. Control. I don't expect _you_ to understand.”

Kylo scoffed, half-mocking, “That's not a technique I'm familiar with.” Nothing remotely like anything he'd ever learned. Anything he'd ever seen, from Snoke or any of the other Knights. That it wasn't a Jedi skill went unsaid.

“Of course not. You haven't finished your training.” Hux tossed his head back with a mocking smirk—it would have been vicious if raising his head into the light hadn't given away something Kylo had suspected.

“Hux, you're . . .” Kylo trailed off helplessly.

Hux snapped, “What?”

Wordlessly, Kylo brought his hand to cup the side of Hux's face, rubbing away the tears still sliding down his face with his thumb. Hux blinked in apparent incomprehension at the damp shining on Kylo's glove as he slowly lifted his hand away, hesitant to overstep some unspoken boundary. The slow blink only made it more obvious how his lashes stuck together with moisture, almost transparent. A new drop slid down the opposite side, and Hux made no motion to acknowledge it.

Hux, of all things, smiled mirthlessly as he stepped back smartly out of easy reach. “It doesn't mean anything. Unlike others, Kylo Ren, I am capable of functioning despite emotional reactions, and there is work to do.”

“Here?” Kylo straightened, fist clenching at his side. He could almost feel Hux pushing at him, diverting his attention aside. Sheer force of will or the Force, either way, the man was closing off in front of him, momentary weakness ignored. Kylo wasn't about to forget it, but Hux was right that there were priorities. Snoke's orders.

“The catacombs.” Hux moved to the doors before them, pressing one hand against the middle until it opened soundlessly, with no indication of a bio-scan or combination pad or anything so mundane. Beyond the door was nothing but black, the dim blue lights of the hall failing to provide even a glimpse of what lay within. “Here is where you will complete your training.”

Kylo frowned as Hux turned aside and began to walk away down the corridor. “And you?”

“I have a mission only the Master of the Knights of Ren can carry out.” Hux smirked over his shoulder, spinning the helmet on raised fingers. “If you want this back, you'll have to earn it.”

Kylo bit back a snarl as Hux vanished around the corner, grumbling to himself as he stepped through the door to the catacombs. Insufferable bastard. The more things changed. . .

Kylo would change. He would get better. He would get stronger.

He had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by, but not drawn exactly from, [PartTimeDragon's](http://parttimedragon.tumblr.com/) Sleeper Knight of Ren Hux. If you have not yet seen the art and head canons, go do so! They have amazing art and excellent character designs. Look at that fantastic gothic haute couture. This is not intended in any way to replace what they're doing with it, because what they've got going on is both different and much broader in span. (This is me, attempting to compress the story into as small a frame as I can, trying to avoid ending up with an epic on my hands, because there is _a lot of story in this premise_ , guys.)
> 
> I'm playing a bit fast and loose with the Knights of Ren, as if the above wasn't enough. You'll see when you get there.
> 
> You'll just have to trust me on the warnings, okay? Bittersweet. 90% cacao. Not all dark.


End file.
